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Chapter 4

Chapter 4. Writing the Results

 

    And now it is time to give birth. After weeks or months of careful research and critical reflection, you are ready to bring your thinking to the light of day. The critical moment has come and labor pains are about to begin. The great ideas you have gestated struggle for life beyond the womb. Whether they live or die will depend on how skillful a midwife you are.

    We are, of course, talking about writing the research paper or thesis. How skillfully or unskillfully you write the results of your research will either give it life or assure its final resting place in a recycling program. It is a regrettable fact that many good ideas wander about in confusion or are hopelessly lost in a wilderness of bad writing.

    In this chapter, we offer suggestions that will, we hope, help you to produce a healthy and attractive brainchild. We are under no illusions that rules make good writers. Like many other intellectual pursuits, good writing is much more an art than it is a science. But "rules"—or more correctly, principles and procedures—can help us to become better writers, that is, more communicative, more readable. Good writing can and does happen; but it is seldom by chance that it does so.

                The Mechanics of Writing

   At a very early stage of the research project, the researcher should begin building structure. Clear, logical structure greatly facilitates good writing. Develop a preliminary outline, beginning with broad categories and then refining. At a later stage, a second or third revision of this outline can provide headings and sub-headings in the written text itself. In an altered form, it may even serve as the table of contents.

    It is advisable, generally, to use headings and sub-headings in the body of the paper or thesis/project. Headings are usually centered on the page and set off from the text by three blank lines (enter, enter, enter), both above and below—assuming that we are referring here to single, not double, spaces. Sub-headings are similarly set off, but are placed at the left-hand margin. They may or may not be italicized, as one wishes.

    Headings and sub-headings have two basic functions: (1) to make it easier to locate particular subject matter; and (2) to make the finished page much easier to read. Endless unbroken pages of text can be both difficult and boring for the reader. Most of us prefer our food in bite-size pieces, not in large masses. Arguments work the same way.

    It is particularly important in building structure to pay careful attention to bridging and flow. Sections and chapters are not discrete essays, complete in themselves. Sentences and paragraphs that provide bridges from one section or chapter to the next assure that a smooth and uninterrupted flow is maintained. Sometimes these are in the form of summary statements; sometimes, introductory statements.

Quoting and Citing

   Most student research papers contain far too much quoted material. Many are "scissor-and-paste" jobs. We have occasionally been handed first-draft thesis chapters in which more than half of the material is borrowed, en bloc—and completely "undigested."

   What is the purpose of quoting? According to Jacques Barzun and Henry Graff, it is to illustrate and not to prove. Quotations ( note: "quotations" and NOT "QUOTES"), they insist, are convincing "samples" of the evidence on which the arguments of your paper or thesis are based. Or a quotation may capture a "characteristic or felicitous utterance."

   Under no circumstances should quotations be used as "fillers" and "extensions" for papers that would otherwise be too short. To begin with, this practice should not be designated as quoting. It is borrowing. This is not the purpose of quotations. 

   Barzun and Graff suggest two "rules of thumb" in using quotations: (1) keep them short; and (2) insofar as it is possible, merge them into the text (1985:339). In other words, as few lengthy block quotations as possible. Block quotations, i.e., those that are indented and single-spaced, should be infrequent and seldom longer than a paragraph. Probably the majority of readers simply skip over them anyway, since they tend to be dense and difficult to read.

   Much of the time, it is better to summarize a writer's argument and restate it in your own words than to quote it at length. Or, to state a scholar's position as you see it and choose a representative quotation as evidence that you are indeed correctly interpreting the scholar's thought.

   The amount of material quoted, however, cannot be absolutely or universally determined by rule. In some instances, depending on the nature of the thesis or research paper, more frequent and lengthier quotations are not only appropriate, but necessary. Particularly when using documents not generally available to the reader, is it important on occasion to reproduce the material being analyzed and interpreted. On the whole, however, quotations should not be a major part of any writing of research. What is wanted is the researcher's critical analysis, conclusions, and questions. Carefully selected representative quotations are to facilitate that end.

   On the other hand, a research paper or thesis/project requires documentation. If you use another writer's ideas, whether or not you actually quote them, you must give appropriate credit. To present the ideas of another as your own is dishonest. Actually to "borrow" material, i.e., to reproduce material from another source without giving credit, or in any way quoting, is plagiarism. Plagiarism is a serious ethical and, possibly, legal offense. The researcher/writer must be very careful at this point.

   To give appropriate credit for the ideas and words of another person or writer is to cite. A citation includes the name of the person or author and the source from which the ideas or words are drawn. Like the MLA and APA styles, the AST style requires that citations be included in the body of the text and enclosed in parentheses.

Writing Style

Formal

   The writing of research papers and theses/projects is a formal endeavor. Formal language and expression are called for. Chatty, folksy language, full of colloquialisms or slang is very inappropriate—except when you are quoting someone else for some special reason. In a "term paper" dealing with a passage from the biblical book of Amos, a student produced this "gem:"  "A lot of people think that Amos was talking about socialism. But I don't think that's the case at all. I think they're barking up the wrong tree."

   In the first place, the contractions  "don't," "that's," and "they're" are out of place in formal writing. Contractions shouldn't be used; it just isn't appropriate to do so. Of course we should have used "should not" and "is not."  But we have made our point.

   Secondly, colloquialisms such as "barking up the wrong tree" are equally out of place in formal writing. Colloquialisms are not incorrect or sub-standard speech forms, but, as we have indicated above, chatty, folksy usages that are quite appropriate in informal settings. Research writing, however, is not akin to a personal chat with someone, or a letter to one's parents.

   Thirdly, the first person pronoun, "I," while certainly not incorrect, should be used sparingly. It is not a "dirty" word, nor is it always inappropriate, as an earlier scholarly tradition insisted. John Clive, a professor of history and literature at Harvard University, defends the use of "that most disgusting of the pronouns," as Edward Gibbon called it. The reasons for considering it to be that, Clive says, lie partly in [false] modesty, partly in the naive belief that "objectivity" could be fostered by being impersonal, but mainly in the notion that "good taste dictates distance between author and reader" (1989:25).

   Even though this tradition considers the use of "I" to be bad taste, it is to be preferred in most cases to the vague and occasionally misleading "this writer," or some similar "chaste disguise," as Clive calls it. In either case, one is referring to oneself. We refer to the views of others as "his" or "hers." Why should not my views be designated as "my views?" We say, "he believes this to be true."  Surely only a false modesty then prevents me from saying, "I believe this to be true."

   Granted, this is much more appropriate in footnotes. They are generally less formal than the text to which they are attached in any event. Even so, to insist that we should always avoid the use of a perfectly normal and good English pronoun in formal writing is to be stuffy and overly-formal.

    Formal writing should not be stiff, labored, or ostentatious and "learned" sounding. Occasionally, writers can be excessively formal, making their material something of an intellectual pain to read. We should avoid this extreme as well.

Technical

   A research paper or thesis/project is not an essay for a class in English Composition. It is "technical" writing as opposed to "creative" writing. Clever opening sentences or illustrations, dramatic climaxes, florid or "flowery" language, heavy with "embroidery," full of similes and metaphors, is the stuff of undergraduate English papers.  Nor is research writing "journalistic," in the sense that it is aimed at the general public. To be sure, it adopts a "rhetorical stance," to use Jacqueline Berke's felicitous term (1976:9-10). That is, it has identified a specific audience which it addresses. In this case, it is the academic community—and usually a specialized segment of it—which the research writer has in mind. This is important, Berke says, to prevent the writer from writing in a vacuum, or speaking in an inappropriate voice.

Technical writing, like any good writing, is characterized by simplicity, accuracy, economy, and clarity. But it is truly amazing how seldom technical writing passes these tests. A not unusual example of this is provided by C. Lawrence Brook:

It is my own personal opinion that the impact of an accident involving an air vehicle journeying over the over-populated environs of Mexico City would be substantially greater than at the average Latin American city, although because the size of the facility at the mammoth central American city is greater than average, the possibility of an incident taking place there is approximately figured to be some-what lower than average. Assuming that planes flown to Mexico City could be reduced in size, this would lower the casualty rate as well as if a proportion of the population could be encouraged to move to coastal cities, the effects of an incident thereafter would be better than average (1982:22).

    None of the characteristics of good technical writing is to be found in this example. To determine exactly what it is the writer of the report is trying to say is no mean feat. All of us will agree that Brook's paraphrase of this "gobbledygook" is much more communicative:

In my opinion an airplane accident over Mexico City would be relatively more destructive than over most Latin American cities. This is due to Mexico City's dense population. Two things could be done to reduce casualties: fly smaller airplanes into Mexico City; and encourage Mexico City residents to move to coastal cities. Fortunately, the chances that an accident might actually occur in Mexico City are less than they are elsewhere because of the size and location of the airport (1982:22).

   Now the technical "report" is simple, accurate and economical in its use of language, and clear enough for most readers to grasp without difficulty. These are the goals to which writers of research papers, theses, and projects should aspire. For this reason, the characteristics of simplicity, accuracy, economy, and clarity are discussed below under separate headings.

Simplicity

   A great deal of writing, including theological writing, is characterized by unnecessary complexity. We could quote example after example from monographs—including textbooks and articles that virtually defy clear understanding. The writers appear to be part of that "tradition" which believes that complexity of thought and language is in direct proportion to the learnedness of the writer.

   One of the most notable characteristics of such writing is the length of sentences and paragraphs. Some sentences we have "collected" run well over 100 words. You will note in the Mexico Airport example above, the entire paragraph consists of two very lengthy complex sentences. Such run-on sentences are the bane of the editor's life—and a great temptation to most writers.

   Sentences should seldom be longer than 30 to 40 words, but should vary in length. If all sentences are long and complex, the effect is that of monotony. If, on the other hand, all of the sentences are short, the effect is choppiness, producing a kind of literary seasickness.

    Good writing is characterized by clear, straightforward sentences. It seeks to avoid the long and excessively complex sentences to which we are so frequently subjected in the technical material we read. Sentences deal with a single thought, but not necessarily all of it. If the thought is complex, it can be "de-complexified" to some extent by using two or more sentences to express it.

    Long paragraphs also contribute to complexity. Paragraphs that are a page or more in length are not uncommon. No paragraph should be that length. As a general "rule of thumb," paragraphs should be no longer than a half page. But, like sentences again, they should be varied in length to avoid the monotonous or choppy effects that can result otherwise.

   Simplicity can be achieved also by the use of simple and direct language. A major offender in technical writing is the use, not of technical language, which is often necessary and can be explained, but of needlessly "big" words. A sentence like, "Theoretical lucidity is not necessarily enhanced by terminological ponderosity" (a real sentence, by the way), should be considered unacceptable, even in technical writing. It is pompous-sounding. "Read" is preferable to "peruse;" "clarity" to "lucidity;" "determine" to "ascertain;" "happen" to "transpire;" "obtain" to "procure;" and so on. Keep it simple.

   William Stunk, Jr. and E.B. White recommend that the language used in writing be positive, definite, specific, and concrete. A sentence such as, "He was not very often on time" is better, Strunk and White argue, stated positively: "He usually came late." Or, "He did not think that studying Latin was a sensible way to use one's time" is better stated as, "He thought the study of Latin a waste of time" (1979:19).

   "Prefer the specific to the general, the definite to the vague, the concrete to the abstract," Strunk and White suggest. "A period of unfavorable weather set in" is much better as, "It rained every day for a week" (1979:21). It is specific, to the point; it defies complexity.

Accuracy

   The second characteristic of good technical writing is accuracy. Theoretical and factual accuracy are, of course, not only desirable but absolutely necessary—insofar as that is possible. But the accuracy we are discussing here is accuracy in the use of language. In other words, grammatical and semantic accuracy.

   It is surprising how frequently grammatical errors occur in student research papers and theses/projects. Among the common errors we have noted are: double negatives ("cannot hardly," "never gave nobody," and "did not do nothing); and split infinitives ("to openly and honestly respond" instead of the grammatically correct, "to respond openly and honestly). Other common errors are: "that" for "who" ("The person that did this . . ."); "less" for "fewer" ("Less than ten people . . ."); and "none are" for "none is" ("none are wise" instead of the grammatically correct "none is wise").

   Pronouns also appear to be a rather vexing problem. "He sings better than me" is incorrect; one should say, "He sings better than I (do)."  "I run faster than she (does)," not " . . . faster than her."  "Who" and "whom" give trouble as well (see Strunk and White 1979:11f), as do the subjective and objective forms of pronouns: I/me; we/us; he/him; she/her; and they/them. Most of us shudder a bit at deviant forms such as, "Me and her saw him do it." But too few of us recognize the error of "This is a problem for you and I."  When pronouns are objects of verbs or prepositions, the objective form is called for. Thus, ". . . you and me"—and perhaps ". . . you and her,"  as well as "them."

   Semantic accuracy is also a concern. It is, for example, simply incorrect to use "parameters" as a synonym for "boundaries."  A parameter is any constant, with variable values, used as a referent for determining other variables—so the dictionary says. A boundary is something that marks limits. It is a semantic error to use these two words interchangeably.

   A sentence such as, "This is the antipathy of love," is nonsensical. The correct word here is probably "antithesis."  "We are trying to solve a basic human need," is equally in error. We solve problems, but meet needs. Or, a sentence such as, "We have had to evolve our own methods."  "Evolve" is an intransitive verb. Things evolve; they cannot be evolved by anyone or anything.

   Examples such as these are not unusual or uncommon. One rather constantly finds them in all kinds of writing, including technical writing. Aim, then, for accuracy.

Economy

   The third characteristic cum requirement of good writing is economy. A great deal of writing of all kinds is characterized by obesity, that is, bloated, excessive use of adverbs, adjectives—especially superlatives—and needless repetition. This repetition we refer to as "redundancy."

   Redundancy involves the use of words or phrases that are not needed. Such phrases as, "the last and final call,"  "totally surrounded,"  "totally destroyed,"  "most unique,"  "serious crisis,"  "true facts,"  "factual numbers," and "equally as costly," involve redundancy. The adjective or other modifier, in each case, is unwanted (see Newman 1974:21).

   Strunk and White assert, "Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts" (1979:23). Many commonplace usages violate this principle, Strunk and White say. For example, "he is a man who" should simply be "he;"  "in a hasty manner" is simply "hastily;" or "the reason why is that," simply "because."

   Jacqueline Berke, also, advises us to deal with redundancy by eliminating unnecessary words and long sentence elements. Here is one of her examples: "The agnostic is one who holds that he has no knowledge of God, indeed that the human mind is incapable of know-ing whether there is or is not a God."  Berke rewrites the sentence thusly: "An agnostic maintains that the human mind cannot know whether or not God exists" (1976:440). The first sentence contains 30 words; the second, 14.

   Often, Berke suggests, complex sentences can easily be converted to simple sentences, thus removing un-necessary words. Predications can be reduced, independent clauses can be made subordinate, clauses can be reduced to phrases or adjectives, and phrases can be reduced to adjectives (see Berke 1976:442ff).

    One of the chief enemies of economy in almost all writing is the repetitious use of "there is/there are." The following two sentences were taken from a thesis: "There were two more historical events during this time which strongly affected how both groups viewed one another. There was the Taiping Rebellion starting in 1850 and then there was a second war between China and Britain and France."  This can easily be re-written, eliminating "there is/there are:" "Two other events during this time strongly affected how each group viewed the other: the Taiping Rebellion, beginning in 1850; and a war between China and Britain and France."  By dealing with "there was/there were," we have removed 10 unnecessary words.

Clarity

   And finally, good technical writing is characterized by clarity. The major problem with the language of the Mexico City airport example above is that it is so opaque and garbled that it almost defies understanding. If it met the tests of simplicity, accuracy, and economy, it would almost certainly be clear and precise. But it is none of these.

   Much technical writing is overly-general and imprecise in its use of language. It is, in other words, "fuzzy."  A good deal of that fuzziness comes from ambiguity, i.e., not clear, uncertain, indefinite, vague. What is ambiguous can be understood in more than one way. A sentence such as, "She loves cake more than me," can be understood either to be saying, "She loves cake more than [she loves] me," or "She loves cake more than [I do]."

   Out-of-place or dangling phrases can create ambiguity. We are not referring to the many humorous ones that occur, such as, "A widow with a distinct twinkle in her eye named Elizabeth." (One wonders what the name of her other eye was!). We have in mind those that can actually be misread, such as, "He arrived just as I started out in his truck to feed the cows."  Where does "in his truck" belong in the sentence? After "arrived?" After "I started out?" After "feed the cows?" It could be any one of these three.

   A television commercial advertises a product that has been "helping families to grow for more than a century."  The same family? The mother should long since have been dead from child-bearing. Did the writer of the commercial mean to say, "For more than a century, helping families to grow?"  Where prepositional phrases are placed in sentences can change the meaning of the sentences.

   "Only" represents another class of word which, if misplaced, can create ambiguity. For example, "He only ordered six copies," can be understood to mean: (1) he only ordered six (but did not pay for them); or (2) he ordered only six (and refuses to pay for the additional copies).

   But most confusing of all is the jargon or "gobbledygook" so loved by pseudo-intellectuals, business people, and bureaucrats. A corporate executive, when asked if his firm planned to buy out a local firm, replied, "I would say that we are definitely in an acquisition mode." (What does he mean, "would say?" He did say it!). All he really needed to say was "yes."

   "Gobbledygook" is inflated and pretentious language which uses 11 words where one will do, or multi-syllabic words where words of one, two, or three syllables are sufficient. Wordy, but indecipherable; windy, but meaningless. Keep the "gobble" out of your writing.

                      GOBBLEDYGOOK

  College officials used to talk to one another. No longer. Today, they articulate with one another.

              Gym classes once were in the physical-education department. No longer. At Rutgers University, they are in the department of human kinetics. In many schools, what was the library is now a learning-resource-center.

              Those are just a few examples of a language disorder known as "education-ese,"  variants of which afflict business, science, and medicine. Its governmental form is gobbledygook, a term coined in the late 1930s by a Texas congressman [Maury Maverick] after he spent months reading official reports larded with bloated, empty words.

              A more serious ailment is new-speak, euphemism gone bonkers to the point of standing truth on its head, such as the Ministry of Truth, which in the George Orwell novel 1984 propagated lies.

              Plain-English advocates des-pair over such linguistic maladies. "They debase the language and obscure thought,"  charges Lt. Col. Robert Murawski, associate professor of English at the Air Force Academy.

              Murawski, who advises the White House on clear writing, contends that "the real danger is not grammatical flubs but clotted expression that makes ideas needlessly complex." (From U.S. News & World Report, Feb 18, 1985).

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